


Faith, Trust, And Pixie Dust

by Val_Brown



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: BAMF!Stiles, Community: tw_bigbang, Gen, Kidnapped, M/M, Magic!Stiles, fairy!stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2018-02-04 23:47:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1797787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Brown/pseuds/Val_Brown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since he was a baby he had kept it a secret. Something that he shared with his mom. But when something comes after him and attacks his pack, he has to share his secret with them. He knows they won't judge him, hello, they sprout claws, fangs and some wicked sideburns. But he changes to the size of a gerbil and has wings and pretty much farts pixies dust on everything.</p><p>Using his new alliance with Peter, Stiles charges in, pixie dust flying to rescue his pack when they are captured by renegade hunters with a strange vendetta.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faith, Trust, And Pixie Dust

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I came into this fic from watching Tinkerbell movies with my daughter and it was kinda like "OH MY GOD... Stiles is a Tinker" and the rest is history.
> 
> My amazing artist [Kittys_Devil](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kittys_devil/pseuds/kittys_devil) has been ill and as of yet is unable to do my art so in the mean time I threw together a soundtrack and when she gets better(Seriously, Jen, get better soon <3) I will post links to her art for this.
> 
> I also want to give a HUGE thank you to for the ABSOLUTELY gorgeous drawing she did of TinkerFairy!Stiles. You can see it here on [Tumblr](http://jenny-1981.tumblr.com/search/fairy+stiles)
> 
> You can go here and listen to the mix on [8Tracks](http://8tracks.com/valress/faith-trust-and-pixie-dust) Or download the zip [here](https://www.dropbox.com/s/tdvtjztgdo23ejl/Faith%2C%20Trust%2C%20And%20Pixie%20Dust.zip)
> 
> A SUPER huge thank you to [QAFManiac](http://archiveofourown.org/users/qafmaniac/pseuds/qafmaniac) For throwing together some amazing art out of the beautiful drawing.

[](http://s783.photobucket.com/user/Valress/media/FaithTrustAndPixieDustbanner.png.html)

Stiles’ dad always said the first time he changed he was about six months old. The sound of the neighbor’s dog barking scared him, and with a pop, he changed into the smallest fairy his dad had ever seen. Stiles was barely the size of one of Claudia’s bottles of nail polish, with tiny pointed ears and translucent green wings that put out an enormous amount of pixie dust. Claudia was ecstatic, cupping her hand around the tiny floating baby and setting him in his father’s palm, before popping down to fairy size herself and fluttering to where Stiles was floating just above his father’s palm. A look of awe and adoration came over his father’s face as he watched his wife cuddle their son while reclined against his palm.

It took nearly an hour before he popped back to normal size, and from what his father says, they were cleaning pixie dust off the furniture for over a month.

~

The first time Stiles can remember changing, he was about four. The same neighbor’s dog got out of the house when Stiles was in the front yard while Claudia was pulling weeds and scared him. He remembers screaming in fright when the dog came at him, wanting to run to his mom, but the dog was too fast. Then suddenly there was a poof of light and a strange popping sound and he was floating above the dog, the size of a hummingbird. His mom turned around and rushed over to where he was getting ready to dive-bomb the dog . She scooped him out of the air, holding him close to her chest. She took him inside and set him on the kitchen counter.

“Stiles, sweetheart, you need to change back. Can you?” Claudia washed her hands quickly, wanting to get the dirt from the garden they had been weeding off her hands. She turned back to her tiny son. “Sweetheart, please?”

Stiles hovered for a moment over the counter before dropping to his bottom. Folding his wings back and in a puff of green smoke he was sitting on the counter staring at his hands. His heart was pounding from leftover adrenaline. He started to shake and looked up at his mom, she was looking at him with pride in her eyes. He began to settle down and couldn’t help the feeling of satisfaction that he protected his mom from the dog.

Over the years, he had gotten control of the change. He didn’t pop to fairy size when he was scared anymore. He might dust a bit, but he didn’t change. No one really knew what he was, his parents were the only ones and now his mom was gone. 

After the episode in the Argent basement, he was sure Boyd and Erica were suspicious. He hadn’t changed. If he had, he would probably be dead. The moment he hit the floor in the basement and saw them strung up, he knew he couldn’t change. He had to get them out. He couldn’t do anything to bring attention to what he was. All he could do was take the beating. Each blow causing him to dust, he could feel the grit of it pressing into his skin. It was only after Gerard left the basement that he stood up allowing the dust to fall from his clothes to the floor. The dust did nothing, there was no magic in dust that came from fear.

He was pretty positive that Chris ended up cleaning pixie dust from the rafters for quite a while before they sold the house. He wasn’t worried about any magic left in it. Like Pan said, you need a happy thought. There were no happy thoughts in that basement. 

He waited for someone to figure out that he was different, that he could change into _something_. He thought it would be Erica. She kept jumping at him randomly, trying to make him startle and dust like he had in the basement, but it never worked. He was no longer a child that was scared by neighbor dogs and she wasn’t as stealthy as she liked to think she was. Boyd didn’t try to scare him. He just made off hand comments about how glitter was a bitch to clean up and how he didn’t like when it was stuck to his head.

It wasn’t like he didn’t trust his pack. He did. He just didn’t trust the things that came after them. He knew that if the creatures they fought found out there was a fairy in Beacon Hills, they would hunt him down for the magic in his bones. 

~

It was pure accident that Peter was the one to find out. Stiles was always so careful, rarely changing unless he was with his dad, making sure that he was in the basement with all the windows covered. It happened to be one of the rare times he let himself shift in his bedroom. The only way he would activate the magic needed to retouch the wards was to be shifted. He was flitting around the room, touching up the wards, when he felt a breeze as his bedroom window opened. 

“Stiles, Derek wants you to... Stiles?” 

Stiles covered his face in his hands, slowly drifted down to his desk and plopped down on the edge of his keyboard. He was cursing at himself for letting his guard down so much that he didn’t hear Peter come through the window. He sat in what he realized was a pile of bright pink dust. He sighed, great, his dust was like a beacon to his embarrassment. “What will it take for you to not say a word of this to anyone?” He wasn’t worried about Peter not hearing him. Even if he didn’t have super hearing, Stiles knew that he would be able to hear him. He wasn’t sure how, but it was probably because he was close enough that his magic recognized Peter and that he was safe to allow to hear Stiles when he was in this form. Anyone else wouldn’t be able to hear anything other than a tinkle of bells.

Peter just sat in the desk chair and watched Stiles with a strange look on his face. “You look so much like your mother in this form.”

“You knew my mom?” Stiles asked, flying up to look Peter in the eyes. No one that knew his mom liked to talk about her. They always got sad, and his dad never talked to Stiles about what his mom was. “You knew what she was?”

“Yes, Claudia used to come around the house with you. She would change and fly around fixing wards on the house. Cora loved the shower of pixie dust she would rain down when she went from rafter to rafter. You didn’t change at all. You smelled so much like her then that I thought the magic was her, not you.” Peter sat on the corner of Stiles’ bed, watching Stiles hover in front of his face,Stiles felt the tips of his ears flicking at the mention of his mother. Stiles twitched his wings, causing pixie dust to flutter to the floor. “One day, when we get a break from this constant invasion of creatures, I will have to tell you stories I remember about her. She may have been no bigger than a can of soda, but she was fierce when threatened.” Stiles felt his wings droop. No one ever wanted to talk about his mother anymore. 

Stiles nodded at that and went back to touching up the wards around his room.

~

The pack found out by accident. Stiles was committed to them not finding out, until he had his plan in place. Sure it may have involved a viewing of Hook, three or four of his mothers tomes on fairies and lore, and possibly a power point. But still it was a plan. 

The damn Fairy Eater threw that all in the shitter. 

~

“Where is the fairy?” The creature in front of them rasped out. Its voice sounded like metal being scraped over concrete. Stiles kept his mouth shut. There was no way he was going to say a damn thing unless he had to.

“There are no fairies around. The last one died nearly twelve years ago,” Derek said, keeping his eyes on the Fairy Eater, even while keeping his focus on Stiles. Stiles is torn between wishing Derek would stop flicking his eyes over to him, he does not want the Fairy Eater to focus on him, and wanting him to never stop talking about his mom with that deep reverence in his voice. No one speaks of her like that anymore. It’s always with the blackness that comes with weary sadness and they always talk of the tragedy. Like how she died, how it tied back to the Hale fire and how Stiles was with her, holding her in his hands as she died.

“There is still one here. There is always one in Beacon Hills,” the creature rumbled, swinging its large boar-like head back and forth. “It’s close by. I can nearly taste it.” It moved closer to Stiles, its slimy nose twitching faster the closer it got to him. Its ape-like hands, tipped in pointed talons, slowly curled around air as he moved closer to Stiles. “Can’t any of you feel it? The magic in it is so pure, so raw.” 

It licked at the air near Stiles face, and between one breath and the next Stiles vanished in a cloud of pixie dust. His heart pounding with fear as he flew off in a stream of rust colored dust. This was exactly what he was trying to avoid. He couldn’t let them get hurt because of him.

The creature bellowed and tore through the preserve, following the trail of sparkling air that Stiles left behind in his haste. Stiles swerved around trees and dodged low-flying owls as he fled back toward the clearing the pack was in. Quickly he darted into Allison’s hair, a quick whisper in her ear to stay still, as the creature came barrelling back into the clearing. Flinging snot and drool everywhere as it swung it’s head from side to side. 

“It’s here! Give it to me!”

Allison drew down on the Fairy Eater, her arrow nocked and aimed squarely at its head. “No.”

“What are you going to do, little human? Shoot me? You can’t hurt me with your human toys, girl,” It drawled, moving closer to her. Stiles observed from his perch on Allison’s shoulder, the Fairy Eater’s eyes swiveling from side to side, tracking as the rest of the pack slowly began to circle it. “The fairy is mine. I have been tracking it since its _inception_ , since it was a mere thought in its creator’s dust. I watched as it grew from a seedling to a flower. Watched as it flew the first time. I could taste the power in it when it was a mere babe. I have earned it. **Give.It.To.Me.** ”

“First off, _he_ is not an object. He is a person, albeit a tiny and glittery person, who apparently flies, but a person nonetheless. Second, this is no toy.” With that she twitched her fingers on the bowstring, let the arrow fly and it buried itself in the creature’s shoulder. 

With a ear-piercing scream, the Fairy Eater fell to the ground, hands scrabbling at the arrow in its shoulder. “We are never unprepared.” Lydia said coming from behind to finish the creature off with an iron-bladed knife to the throat. The creature died with a hiss, like a punctured balloon, slowly turning to silver sparkling dust. Stiles pumped his fist in the air and proceeded to get his fingers stuck in Allison’s hair. He couldn’t help the intense relief he felt at knowing that his pack had protected him without question, even knowing that he kept a secret from them that could have hurt them all. With that sobering thought he finished detangling himself from Allison’s hair.

Turning to Allison, Lydia tucked the knife away and squinted her eyes at Allison’s left shoulder. “Alright, Stiles. You can come out now.”

Stiles slowly fluttered out from behind Allison’s curls, the tips of his wings drooping in shame. He waved, dropping pixie dust all over Allison and the ground. “Hi.”

“I **knew** it!” Erica shouted, thrusting a fist in the air, before pointing at Stiles. “I knew there was something about you!”

Stiles rubbed his face, his embarrassment obvious even on his tiny features. It didn’t help that his wings were droopy and putting out massive amounts of bright pink dust. “So you’re probably wanting to know why I kept this from you?”

“That would be a good start,” Derek said as Stiles flitted around the pack, raining pixie dust over them. Stiles kept his eyes on Derek even as he flitted from pack member, to pack member. Cora smiled sadly when Stiles stopped at her and pecked a kiss to the tip of her nose like his mother used to. He knew that once he was human size again, Derek was going to be full of questions. One of which probably being how he could keep something like this a secret from his boyfriend. Turning back toward Derek, Stiles floated in front of his face. “Can you turn back?”

Stiles nodded and in a flash he was back to his human size. “So, I’m a fairy.”

~

“Were you ever planning on telling us?” Derek asked once everyone got settled back at the house. Stiles understood what Derek was asking, _”Would you ever have trusted us enough to tell us?”_

“I was. I had a plan and everything.” Stiles brushed his hand through his hair, raining glitter over the hardwood floor. “I know what you’re thinking. _Why didn’t he trust us? We wouldn’t hold it against him._ It wasn’t about trust. It was about safety. That creature tonight? He was just the beginning. Now that I’m known there will be more, and not just creatures, either. Hunters will be after me, and they certainly won’t kill me, just make me wish I were dead.”

“What do you mean, they would make you wish you were dead?” Scott asked quietly, his eyes still flashing between gold and red. The adrenalin from the fight was still running hot in most of the pack, half a dozen pairs of eyes intermittently flashing gold or blue around the room.

“That creature wasn’t lying. The magic in my bones, it’s not only something that creatures want. The hunters would drain me, slowly, before killing me. Then they would take the magic that my bones hold.” Stiles sat heavily on the couch and put his head in his hands. He could feel Allison tense up next to him. “All in all, it would not be a pleasant experience for me.”

“I had no idea.” Allison looked absolutely wrecked that this was something that could have happened if Gerard had known what Stiles was when he had him in the basement. “I’m so sorry.”

Stiles noticed Scott stepping forward to defend Allison. Stiles put his hand up to stop him. “It’s okay, Ally. You didn’t know. They didn’t know. It’s all in the past as we have moved on from that time.” He looked hard at Scott who was still poised defend Allison even though she didn’t need it. Stiles knew that she felt bad about what had happened during that horrible time after her mother died. He didn’t agree with how she coped with that pain, and he blamed a lot on Gerard, but he understood the anger at losing a parent far too soon.

Derek and Scott paced in front of the couch, periodically glancing at each other. Derek stopped in front of Stiles. “Alright, how do we keep you safe?”

“Same as before. We just need to keep vigilant,” Stiles said, smoothed his hands over his head. He could feel the pixie dust on his scalp, made it rain down to the floor, making the hardwood glow brightly before all the dust disappeared in a puff of purple smoke. “I’ll re-ward the house, and add a few that will alert to hostile motives.”

Scott and Derek nodded and turned to the rest of the pack. Scott began delegating jobs, pointing Peter toward the kitchen to make tea for everyone. “We should all stay here tonight. Erica, Cora can you both get the blankets and pillows from upstairs? Boyd, Isaac push the couch out of the way.” 

“Stiles, you know we accept you no matter what, right?” Derek sat next to Stiles on the couch. Stiles nodded and wrapped his fingers around the hand Derek had put on his knee. “You can change if you want. I mean, you don’t have to, but you seemed much more comfortable when you were flying.”

Stiles nodded and in a burst of light blue dust he was floating in front of Derek’s face. His pointed ears wiggling happily as he buzzed off to touch up the wards in the beams of the house.

~

[](http://s783.photobucket.com/user/Valress/media/dividerFTPD.png.html)

 

“So, I don’t look much like my mom, do I?” Stiles asked quietly, watching as Peter moved around the kitchen of the pack house. He was supposed to be peeling potatoes for Peter to put on to boil.

“No, you do look like her. But her wings were darker green, with silver veins running through them.” Peter continued mixing the meatloaf before dumping the mixture into a large pan and tucking it into the oven. “You know she met your dad by accident. She was supposed to be bringing flowers back to her village for a festival when she flew right in front of him. He just scooped her out of the air. She was so startled that she shifted right there.”

“He told me part of that story. He always said it was like lightning shot through him when she changed,” Stiles said, a small smile on his face as he remembered the look on his dad’s face every time his mom would transform in his hands. 

“What happened? I know it had to do with the fire, but no one will tell me anything.” Peter asked as he molded the meatloaf. He knew that Claudia had died around the time of the fire and that the fire was the reason, but no one had told him exactly what had happened. Stiles took a deep breath. He had never talked about what really happened that day. But he knew that if he did he might feel a bit better. He knew that the reason no one would tell Peter anything is because no one knew. Not even his dad knew the real reason Claudia died that day, instead of slowly dying like she had been.

“When she put the wards around the Hale house, she put herself into them. A bit of her spirit, a bit of her magic. All of it was tied to her life force. She warded the house, and when the wards were broken, she felt it,” Stiles leaned his elbows on the counter and watched Peter put the meatloaf into the pan. He wiped a stray tear from his cheek and continued. “She felt when the house started to burn. She tried to get to the Preserve, to get to the healing wards in the trees, but it was too late. She couldn’t fly. So I picked her up from the counter and carried her to the tree line at the back of our yard, she had wards hanging there. She was able to activate one.”

“Mine?” Peter whispered as he washed his hands and turned taking Stiles’ hand in his and squeezing. Stiles smiled at him, his eyes shining with tears. 

“Yeah, yours was the only one I could reach. She put the last of her magic into it.” Stiles sniffed and let go of Peter’s hand. He turned to the pile of vegetables on the counter and began to put together a salad to go with dinner. He hated being reminded of how helpless he felt as he watched his mother fade away in his hands. He had been eight years old and there was nothing in his power to save her. He had stayed angry for years. Angry at himself for not being strong enough to save her, and when he learned the truth, his anger had turned on the hunters who had started the fire.

“How did breaking the wards kill her? I thought it was just magic being broken,” Peter questioned, carrying the pot of chopped, peeled potatoes to the stove and setting it on a burner. Stiles could see Peter was raw, knowing that the last of Claudia’s strength went into saving him. Stiles knew that was almost more than Peter could handle. That Peter probably wanted to bring Kate back just so he could kill her again. 

Even with his resurrection and subsequent issues after the Alpha pack and the Darach, Peter had always admired Stiles. How could he not? The kid hadn’t even thought twice about lighting him on fire when he had been feral, knowing that the only reason Peter was even alive at that time was because of his mother. That his mother had sacrificed the last of her spirit to save him and he was going to be the one to destroy him. He had just known it needed to be done.

“That’s the thing, Kate had to be working with a magic user. There was no way she could have gotten close to the house without one. The wards would have alerted Talia and she would have been able to get the pack to safety. But there was no warning from any of the wards. Then when there was, it was too late. They not only burned the house, they used that fire to burn my mom. They knew what they were doing. They wanted her dead as well,” Stiles said turning to put the salad in the refrigerator. He moved to sit at the table. “They wanted to kill anyone or anything tangentially linked to the Hale Pack. That meant my mom. If they had known about me, I would’ve been killed too.”

Peter didn’t say anything, just reached a hand across the table and covered Stiles’s linked hands. 

~

“We have a problem,” Chris Argent announced walking in the front door of the pack house, his gun clearly visible in his thigh holster. “There are new hunters in town and they have the pack.”

“What do you mean there are new hunters in town that have my pack?” Stiles asked, eyeing Chris angrily as he fluttered around the room. He was still on the fence about trusting Chris. Trusting him just enough for his magic to include Chris, but not enough to trust him with the lives of his pack. The hunter had done nothing to prove that he was like his father, but in the same vein he had also proved that he was willing to do what he could to keep werewolves out of his family. Helping Victoria kill herself and all the aggression aimed at Scott and Derek. His wings were leaving trails of bright red dust over the furniture.

“Exactly that. There are new hunters in town and they’re looking for the werewolf that killed an emissary,” Chris kept his eyes on Stiles, who was flying along the ceiling, lightly touching the corners. “So they took the pack to find the killer.”

Stiles stopped and turned to stare at Chris. “Why would hunters care about an emissary?”

“Apparently this emissary was working with them to take down a pack that had gone rogue,” Chris let the words die off as he figured it out. “Jesus, do we even know who killed her?”

“I did,” Peter said nonchalantly, walking into the room and tossing his jacket on the couch. “She was trying to use the Nemeton to save herself again. So I tore her throat out.”

Stiles nodded and flew down to perch on Peter’s shoulder. “Makes sense. She would have kept sacrificing to maintain the power she gained from the original sacrifices. It would have been a vicious cycle, literally and figuratively.”

“So, what do we do? They have the entire pack, except the three of us,” Chris asked, clearly wary as he watched Stiles push off Peter’s shoulder and fly to the couch. In a pop of light, Stiles was back to his human size.

“We save them,” Stiles said, the _duh_ unspoken but understood. “They’re expecting you and Peter. But they aren’t expecting you to work together, and to work with me. They never expect me.” Stiles grinned. He liked being underestimated. The look of shock on their faces was always his favorite part of a rescue, well that and getting his pack back safe and intact. “This time, though... this time I get to use my magic.”

~

Stiles’ face hard, his anger nearly palpable as he darted between Chris and Peter, his hands carving symbols in the air over each of them, dust falling from the symbols as they lit up and then dissipated. “There, now you are completely invisible. Well, at least to any perimeter alerts they may have set up. Don’t talk, that I didn’t make silent. Wait for my signal, then go in.” 

Stiles moved a few feet to the side and let the two men fall back slightly. He nodded and headed toward the warehouse he knew was holding his pack. 

~

Electricity crackled around Stiles as he flew between the roof-beams of the building. He seethed with rage, his dust a dark red black as it rained down, dissipating before it gave him away. He perched on a beam and watched as Peter and Chris moved through the shadows. He looked around the relatively small warehouse and saw where his pack was tied up. Far enough away from each other that they couldn’t touch, but close enough that they could see everything that was done. Erica and Isaac shackled, both of them unconscious, to two I bars with, from what he could see, looked like chain, but from the sizzling it was alive with electricity. Boyd and Scott were alert and strung up by their wrists, wires attached to their sides, Allison and Lydia, both gagged and handcuffed to chairs. Both of them awake and struggling with their bonds. Allison’s hands bound far away from each other. Apparently these hunters knew who she was and were taking no chances with her getting her hands free. Derek, though, he couldn’t see and that scared him.

Flying down to where Chris and Peter were hiding just out of sight, Stiles flitted in front of them for a moment, before flying ahead of them and in a flash of light and a spectacular crack he, was human sized. With his wings. 

Stiles glanced over his shoulder with a perplexed look. “Huh, well, that’s new,” he said before shaking out his wings and moving quickly toward where he can hear the hunters moving around his pack. 

He was expecting more than just one hunter to come looking for what had made the cracking sound. But as usual when it came to hunters he was disappointed with the ineptness that came with the young ones. 

One swift punch turned the young hunter into a pile of black dust before he even noticed Stiles’ wings. Stiles turned back to look at Peter and Chris, he was silent as he pointed in front of them, not needing to tell them that the pack was just ahead. They could hear the electricity and the muted yells of the gagged women.

~

 

“Who killed her?” the hunter said, standing at the box controlling the electricity running through the four werewolves who were strung up. Stiles could see the moment Erica began seizing and that moved him to reveal himself from where he was concealed just around the open door. 

“I did. What are you going to do about it?” Peter said, his voice dripping with disdain as he moved to stand behind Stiles at his right, Chris close at Stiles’ left, his gun trained on the hunter.

The hunter stared at Stiles, his eyes wide. “You’re a... how is that possible? You’re supposed to be extinct.”

Stiles laughed, the sound was nothing like his usual laugh; it was grating and angry sounding. “Well, I’m here. Your emissary is dead. She was executed to stop her from killing anyone else.”

“She was murdered by an _animal_ ,” the hunter spat, rage coloring his features.

Peter snorted out a laugh. “You were in love with her? She was a murderer, you know.”

“Lies! You are a lying beast!” The hunter moved to turn up the electricity when a shot rang out. Chris stepped out from his hiding spot, his gun pointed at the hunter. He hit the ground, whining and holding his shoulder. Chris kept his gun trained on the hunter as he moved closer and grabbed the keys hanging from his belt loop, tossing them to Stiles.

“You should shut up and listen,” Stiles said, his voice low and angry. He moved toward where Erica was hanging, using the keys Chris threw to him to release the shackles around her wrists. She fell against him and he gently laid her on the ground. Handing the keys to Peter, Stiles held Erica as she shook. When the seizure slowed, he turned back to the hunter. “Peter isn’t lying. She was a murderer. She killed twelve innocent humans. She sacrificed them for power. She kidnapped my father and was going to kill him. She deserved to die.”

“She wouldn’t...” The hunter looked distraught. Stiles couldn’t figure out if it was from the pain of the gunshot wound or the realization that Jennifer had been a serial killer hell bent on power.

“She did. If I hadn’t killed her, she would have continued. The power she gained would have disappeared, she would’ve had to continue killing to maintain the power she collected. I did the world a favor.” Peter unlocked Isaac and tossed the keys back to Chris, who unlocked Allison and Lydia. Moving over to where Boyd and Scott were strung up, Peter looked at Stiles. “Where is Derek?”

The hunter sneered, “He’s being dealt with.” 

Stiles vibrated with anger. How dare he look so smug. This _man_ acting like it was okay, like it was a good thing, that they were hurting his Alpha, his _Derek_. He moved across the room, his wings beating angrily behind him. “ _Dealt with?_ You better hope that he’s okay, because if he isn’t...” Sparks began to crackle at the tips of Stiles’ fingers, his eyes turned silver as he hovered above the ground in front of the hunter. Stiles had never been this angry, not when he’d found out about Jennifer, not when he’d found out about Kate. Though to be completely truthful, Kate had already been dead, leaving him with nothing to do, and Jennifer had been holding his father hostage, so killing her would have harmed his dad.

The hunter’s eyes went wide with fear as he raised a shaking hand to point at a closed door. Stiles snarled at him and clipped him with one wing as he turned, hard enough to knock the hunter unconscious.

Stiles looked down briefly at the heap of hunter on the ground. “At least now he’s not crying.”

He took off toward the closed door, Peter close at his heels. With a burst of light, Stiles blasted the door open. “That is also new,” Stiles said, swooping through the door, his wings beating behind him, dripping dark red dust into piles. He knew that he was going to freak out later by all these new powers that he seems to have suddenly, but right now he doesn’t have the time to stop and freak out that he was able blast a door open with light from his hands. He pulled up sharp at the scene before him. He heard Peter growl behind him, and putting up a hand, he stopped Peter from rushing forward.

“Step away from my Alpha,” Stiles said in a voice that was unrecognizable even to himself. He could feel the spark of power at the tips of his fingers, his wings shook behind him, stirring the piles of dust into small tornados.

The hunter just glared at Stiles and turned back to Derek, who was tied to a chair with rope that seemed to be woven with wolfsbane, Stiles could see the flowers, knife in hand. "Or what? You'll beat those pretty wings into dust while I slit his throat?"

Stiles kept his eyes on the hunter and not on Derek. He knew that if he looked at the mess that was Derek’s torso, he would tear the hunter’s head from his neck. “I said, step away from my Alpha.” Stiles growled, a sound that was neither human nor animal. It was something otherworldly and made the hunter stop. Stiles could see the hunter trying to move, could see him struggling against invisible bonds. 

Stiles flew across the room to face the hunter. Peter rushing to where Derek was, quickly slashing at the wolfsbane infused rope, hissing as it burned his hands. “Stiles?” Peter said, hauling Derek from the chair and wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Get Derek out of here. I need to talk to this guy.” Stiles hovered just above the ground. His wings beating ominously behind him, the sound of them battering the air making the hunter look around for an exit. At his feet miniature tornadoes of dark red dust, sparked tiny fires that danced along the ground.

The hunter was still holding the knife he had used to torture Derek. His hands were covered in Derek’s blood, and his face was smeared with it. Stiles reached out and gripped the hunter’s wrist. He didn’t say a word as the hunter began to scream, smoke rising from where Stiles’ fingers were wrapped around his arm. With a flick of his wrist, Stiles snapped the bone and released the hunter. 

“I should do to you what you did to him,” Stiles said, his voice sounding like a shovel being dragged over gravel. He swooped behind the hunter, pushing him to his knees in the center of the tiny fire tornadoes. “Or, I could let the fire eat you.”

He flew back toward the door, leaving the hunter kneeling in fear in the middle of the spiraling flames. Stiles’ magic holding the hunter, his struggles in vain as he tried to get away from the fire. He pushed each flame closer and closer to the hunter, until they licked at the hunter's clothes, singeing hair and burning skin. He watched as his dust and fire consumed the hunter, leaving nothing behind but a black scorch mark. 

He left the room and went back to the first hunter. “Where’s the rest of your group?”

The lone hunter cowered on the floor, shaking in fear. “They are supposed to be back. They said that they would come back to watch the Alpha die.”

The tips of Stiles’ ears twitched, as he heard cars outside. He turned a feral grin on the hunter. “Sounds like they’re back.” He turned to where Chris was waiting at the open side door. “Go! Take care of the pack. I’ll be a few.”

Chris nodded grimly and walked away. 

~

Stiles hovered near the rafters, where they couldn’t see him, as the hunters entered the room. He relished the shocked anger when they realized that the main room was empty save for the broken body of one hunter and when they moved to the room that held Derek, the scorch mark that marked what was left of the other.

“You took my pack.” Stiles flew closer to them, his eyes flashing, literally, between gold and black. “You hurt my Alpha. You hurt my _family_.”

“They are nothing but animals!” A hunter spat at Stiles. His voice cut off harshly when Stiles shot forward and crushed the man’s throat in his hand, letting the body fall to the ground. Harsh rasps and broken gurgles signalled that the man was dying. When silence fell again, Stiles turned to the others. They had frozen in shock at the speed with which Stiles had moved. They all had their weapons pointed at him, arrows nocked, bullets chambered. They all began to fire at him, he darted around the room, easily dodging each shot. 

“You think your vengeance is worthy? That she was worth this?” Stiles came to a stop, hovering before them and waved his hand around the room. His magic forcing the rest of the men, only three left of the initial seven who took the pack, to drop their weapons and look at the remains of their colleagues. “She was a murderer, worse than any _animal_ I have ever come across. She killed with no remorse. She killed for _power_! Not for vengeance, for power.”

“What would you know about that?” the one Stiles assumed was the leader only because he was the one the ones left seemed to defer to, sneered. Quickly silenced by a wave of Stiles hand and dropped to his knees. 

“I know that she killed my friend, she seduced my Alpha, she kidnapped my _father_ , and if not for Peter Hale, she would have continued to kill to maintain the power that she **stole** from others. She deserved to die,” Stiles said angrily, his wings flapping as he began to circle the hunters. “If Peter hadn’t done it, I would have. I would have torn her to pieces and dropped them at the four corners of Beacon Hills.”

The hunters turned to keep Stiles in sight as he circled them. Stiles stopped in the same place where he’d begun, facing the leader with a grin, a feral grin that was more of a baring of his teeth. None of the hunters noticed the circle of dust Stiles had left on the ground as he moved around them. “You should learn to fight for something worthy. But unfortunately, you won’t get the chance to try again.” Stiles turned and moved toward the door as the ring of dust burst into flames. He looked back once when the screams began, then he let the door shut behind him, effectively blocking the screams.

He felt his wings trembling behind him before they disappeared, leaving him standing outside the warehouse, shirtless and covered in glitter. “Great, now I look like I’m doing the walk of shame after a rave.” He waited for the guilt to set in. He had just killed seven people with no thought other than to get his pack back. He felt nothing but satisfaction. He protected his family and he was not going to feel guilt about it. He climbed in his jeep and headed toward home.

~

“Not a bad look, Stiles,” Peter said as Stiles hopped out of his jeep and started up the front steps.

“Shut it. How is Derek? The Pack?” He asked pushing his way through the front door.

“They’re sleeping, but healing. It took Chris and myself to get Derek to even lay down. He wanted to come after you, but he wasn’t healed enough. He’s like an angry bear right now, so you should get to the den.” Peter pushed him toward the den with a wince. Stiles could see he was still healing from what looked like a claw swipe. Stiles is betting Derek gave it him before he passed out on the front porch, trying to get to the car to pick up Stiles. It was a thing Derek tended to do if he thought Stiles was in danger and he needed to get to him. Argue with the Pack, bleed on the floor, try to get to his car, claw Peter, pass out.

Stiles had just taken a step into the den when he had an armful of werewolves. He chuckled down at Scott, who was wrapped around his waist. He ran a hand through Scott’s hair and let Isaac nuzzle against his shoulder. 

“Hey, I’m okay and so are you. Let me come inside all the way.” Stiles shuffled forward, Isaac backing off slightly, but Scott hanging on tighter. Stiles huffed and just hooked his arm over Scott’s shoulders and moved slowly toward the living room. 

He could see the rest of the pack curled together in a pile of blankets on the floor. Derek was in the middle, his green eyes open, watching as Stiles came into the room.

“Hey,” Stiles said finally being released from Scott’s hold and able to crawl into the space between Derek and Boyd. Stiles barely noticed Peter and Chris joining the pile, both of them carefully wrapping themselves around the edges, protecting them.

“Hey,” Derek said, his voice raspy as he ran a hand over Stiles’ shoulder, tracing the curve of his shoulder blade. Stiles shivered and curled closer to Derek’s chest, finally letting the reality of what happened crash in on him. He killed with no remorse. He didn’t feel guilt for that. The thing that was getting to him was that he felt _nothing_ for the men he killed. He felt proud of himself for doing that, he protected his pack like a good second and he felt no compunction about it. he began to shake as the adrenaline wore off and scooted closer to Derek. 

He felt Boyd nestle closer to his back, winding an arm over his waist. Stiles couldn’t help but preen a bit that Boyd was cuddling against his back. Boyd usually stuck to the edges with Peter and Chris. Stiles closed his eyes as Isaac’s fingers found their way into his hair. He could feel his breath hitching. Scott threading their fingers together had him pressing his face closer to Derek’s chest. Erica, Allison and Lydia laying their hands on what parts of Stiles they could. Stiles couldn’t help but feel completely content. 

“We’re okay, Stiles. We’re safe. Because of you.” Derek whispered, pressing his lips to the crown of Stiles head.

Stiles nodded, unable to articulate his feelings. All he could do was make gold dust rain down on them.

“Is this necessary, Stiles? I am never going to get it out of my hair.” Peter grumbled at the gold covering everyone, but knew that it was Stiles’ happiness in physical form. 

"Don't front. You love it.” Stiles voice was muffled in Derek’s chest, but everyone could hear the smile in his words.

Peter just grunted and snuggled closer to the pack, causing Isaac to cough out. “Watch the hands, Hale.”

Stiles lay in the circle of his pack, knowing that no matter what, he would do everything he could to protect them. And they would do the same for him.

**Author's Note:**

> If I missed any tags please let me know!


End file.
